


Zarya x Reader Drabble Collection.

by Palus_Hiemalis



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Drabble Collection, Drabbles, F/F, Femslash, Generally Innocent, Implied Sexual Content, Language Kink, Reader-Insert, Russian Pet Names, Suit Porn, Suits, XReader, Zarya is best girlfriend, big buff butch fluff, saffic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-10 00:23:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 3,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7823050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Palus_Hiemalis/pseuds/Palus_Hiemalis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten drabbles about chilling with your crush/girlfriend, Zarya.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> (This is a somewhat makeup post for the fact I haven't been in the right mindset to write smut lately and haven't updated that other fic. Hope this fills the beefy Russian lesbian shaped hole in your hearts. I will not stop until this tag is brimming with indulgent gay.  
> I'd like to thank that, "If Zarya were your Girlfriend" video and the random word list generator for making the prompts. Enjoy.)
> 
> INDEX
> 
> Flowers - Zarya brings you a gift.  
> Wipe - Gettin' sweaty at the gym.  
> Coach - Zarya is your boxing coach.  
> Complete - Cuddling with Zarya.  
> Whisper - Zarya has you wrapped around her meaty little finger.  
> Living - Zarya cooks your breakfast.  
> Unique - Zarya assures you you're her number one gal.  
> Hard-to-find - You're sad and texting Zarya.  
> Wool - It's damn cold and Zarya gives you her jacket.  
> Applaud - You're cheering on Zarya at a competition.

_1\. Flowers_

"For you."  
Zarya presses a bouquet of flowers into your hands, wrapped with brown paper and string, it brims with plush flowers. Soft puckered carnations in white and pink, some with edges tinged with red. You giggle as you press your nose into the flowers, they have a warm, almost spicy scent. You look up at Zarya in her bright red varsity jacket, she looks rather pleased with your reaction. She grins from ear to ear with her hands in her pocket, your face tinged to match the shade of the flowers. This is only your third date, the bunch she brought last time has only just started to wither.  
"You know, you don't have to bring flowers every time..." You say, propping the bunch under your arm.  
"Exactly." She said in a smooth voice, a cool smile reclined across her face.  
You feel flush with embarrassment, "You're going to spoil me, you know that?"  
"I shall not aim for less than total pamperment of you." She said, looking into the distance with a slightly stern expression.  
You link arms with her and lean into her shoulder, humming happily, "I'd be content with, like, 30% 'pamperment' to be honest."  
"No. I shall go beyond and above duty." She squeezes your arm, "Nothing less for my precious one."


	2. Wipe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (This goes against gym etiquette but let's not let a little reality get in the way of flirting. I listened to Janelle Monae whilst making this; Suite IV Electric Overture, Victorious and Look Into My Eyes. So it's extra gay.)

_2\. Wipe_

Her posture was mesmerising. On her bench she sat, back straight, her shoulder set back and her breath even and steady as she pulled the dumbbell up to shoulder height before bringing them down again. You knew that you were supposed to do fifteen or so reps at a time, but it seemed to go on forever; the slow deliberate motion of her biceps and her forearm as it brushed against the fabric of her tank top was hard to break away from.  
Her eyes were narrowed on her weight, a cutting stare that sparked flutters in your chest. You wanted to squirm or hide your face, but you were stuck in place, mid-way through stepping on your treadmill, a towel in your hand. You traced her outline with your eyes, the curve of her broad shoulders that sunk to her toned neck to her formidable jaw that drew to a pointed chin. Her scar was mean but her eyelashes were thick and dark. Her eyes gleamed green as they settled on you.  
Your mind was wiped blank as a smirk formed on her lips. You felt as if you had shrunk under that knowing look. Her dumbbell rested on the floor as she put her arms on her lap, sweat beaded on her muscles and temple.  
"Excuse me?" She cleared her throat and asked, her voice runny with slight humour.  
"YES." You piped. You wished you could stick the word, and its high pitch, back into your stupid face. Your cheeks burned under her gaze.  
"Could I borrow...?" She turned her face and gestured to the towel, "I left behind my own in my locker."  
You willed your arm to move forward and she took it in hand. She pressed her face into it before bringing it over her pink hair. She shook out her hair into thick wet strands before handing it back. It hung limply in your hands, a musky, salty smell radiated from it. She batted those full eyelashes at you as you tried to absorb what just happened.  
She rolled her shoulders slightly, you stood in place, frozen as you tried to rescue the situation.  
"You know," She said as she stretched her neck, "You receive better view of me from running machines on far side of the gym." She pointed behind her with her thumb and grinned.  
Your face drained of all expression, before turning on heel to where she pointed, hearing her wheeze in surprise as you did as she said.


	3. Coach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Malishka - 'little one'.)

_3\. Coach._

"Try hard, malishka." Her voice is low and level. "Try hard."  
Coach Zarya leans over you, peeking from behind her punching pads, holding them just above your eye line. You pant hard, keeping on your toes, you've been pushing yourself for a while now, but the glint in Zarya's eyes lights a determination in you. You sock the pads in quick succession, grunting with the effort.  
"Good. Again."  
You drive your weight into the punches and feel the slight throw she applies as she meets your gloves.  
Her face is bright and she growls pleasingly, "Yes! Again!"  
You punch lacks a little something this time and her brow creases.  
"Another round," She croons under her breath slightly, her eyes fixed on yours. You melt under them, training with your girlfriend was the best idea you'd ever had.  
You yell out a short bark of effort as you give three blows to the pads.  
"For me, one more time, one more..." She says, a soft edge to her words.  
You double your efforts and spring forward, pounding the material against her outstretched hands. Her face is warm as she taps you on the shoulders when you finish, your body feeling sunny inside and out. She loops her arms around your neck, taking off the straps of the pads before taking the back of your head and pressing her lips to your near-wet forehead.  
She breathes into your sweat-matted hair, her eyes closed and her arms loose, "Perfect."


	4. Complete

_4\. Complete_

You wake up to a warm darkness, you've nestled yourself deep in the crook of Zarya's neck. You're sandwiched between her side and the sofa cushions. You push the bridge of your nose against the flesh of her neck and receive a grumble from her akin to the deep thrum of a bass guitar.  
A wedge of light peaks from the curtain, it's late morning by your estimate, it must be Saturday. The room is cool and as you adjust yourself, the sunlight tracks straight across your eyes. You wiggle down her to her breasts and lay against her with your arms tucked under her back, your legs sink between her own.  
Zarya sighs and mumbles out your name, only tweaked with some endearing Russian suffix tacked on the end, "Why have you moved?" She says in a monotone voice.  
"Sunlight." You reply, slurring your words into her top.  
She snakes her hands onto the small of your back and heaves a deep breath. You feel like you are easing yourself into an especially curvy cloud.  
"I have a question." You say, turning your head and squinting your bleary eyes open.  
"I have all ears." She says, scrunching herself deeper into the sofa.  
You snort a laugh, "What were we doing last night?"  
"Your assignment." She said.  
You bolt upright, shoving your hands on her pecs to steady yourself. Zarya grunts loudly in surprise and mutters a protest.  
"It's complete, it's complete!" She groans and pulls your shoulders back down, "Get back to here." She says in almost pleading tone.  
You huff in relief and nestle back into her chest, listening to the deep, comforting thump of her heartbeat.


	5. Whisper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Thank you Raphael Saadiq and your wonderful song 'Let's take a walk.'  
> Zvyozdochka - 'little star'  
> Lyubov moya - 'my love'.)

_5\. Whisper._

This party was too crowded, too loud and had gone on for far too long. Everyone was perched on the edge of armchairs or shuffling about the centre of the rooms. You walked into the living room, where Zarya, in her black shirt and blazer with its pointed silver pocket square, took up a whole corner. Her legs wide as she leant back with a glass in hand. Her eyelids lowered at your arrival and she slightly raised her glass. You gave a little wave back before being shunted forward by mistake.   
You wobbled in front of her and she sat up, smoothing her hand subtly over her pinstripe trousers,  
“You would like a seat?”   
Guests around you had their own conversations, but eyes swivelled towards you both as you sat on Zarya’s lap. Her hand slipped onto your hip in reassurance. The band was elsewhere in the house, playing rough, sultry R&B. The pressure of her hand at your side tingled on your skin.  
“Are you comfortable, zvyozdochka?” Her lips were at your ear lobe, you drew in a sharp breath of surprised before she crooned, “Ahh, do not worry yourself; worry, it does not suit you, I think.”  
You arched your back as her fingers dug further into your side, firm and possessive.  
You turn your head gently and spoke quietly in her ear, “What are you suggesting, my dear?”  
Zarya bucked her knee slightly, and returned a whisper, “I escort you home.”  
“That doesn’t sound much of a plan… I’m having _such_ a good time, you know.” You say, with a slight faux-innocence to your words. You swish the champagne flute in your hand idly.  
Zarya snarled a laugh, you feel her raising the corner of her lips to flash her canines slightly, “In this case, how about I will escort you all the way up the stairs? To your room?”  
“An improvement…” You say trailing your words.   
“Oh, how do I win your approval, lyubov moya…?” Her words are overly-sweet in her plea.  
“Get me out of this dreadful party as fast as you can, and then, we shall see about the stairs…”  
Zarya downs her drink and puts it slowly on the table to the side of her, before guiding your own hand to the table where you place it down as deliberately slowly as you can manage. You look at each other with raised eyebrows and broad smiles.  
In one smooth motion, she hauls you up and off of her lap before weaving through the crowd with her hand clasped around your wrist. She takes her topcoat from the hat-check and slips it on fluidly before pushing through the exit. Once outside she draws you in for a deep kiss, her hands gripping your back and shoulders. You brush her hair out her face and submit to the kiss. Rain drizzled and flew in the light of the streets, bitterly cold about you as you filled with warm from her embrace.


	6. Living.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (weeps I wish I could eat gluten, waffles are so cute and cosy okay.)

_Living - Zarya cooks your breakfast._

Zarya stared intently at the waffle maker from the other side of the kitchen, eyeing the steam that poured out from the sides in the same way she stared down rude bar-goers on a night out.  
You had just finished your first plate of waffles, and spoke up, “You know you don’t have to watch it like a hawk? Right?”  
She nodded, but she insisted on vigilance after undercooking the first batch slightly. It had undoubtedly had a serious effect on her pride.  
“You know, I can make waffles for myself?”  
She cleared her throat and gave you a raised eyebrow, “Yes, but can you make waffles made by me for yourself? No. I shall make them.”  
You wiped a finger across the syrup left over from your first plate, you were going to mention that it was only a matter of pouring the batter in the mould and opening it when the alarm went off, but you felt a bizarre comfort in her dedication. There was something in the way she was hunched over the counter, prepared with plates and toppings for when the time came to serve. The hardness in her face, yet her relaxed posture, knowing she could handle the meanest of waffles.  
You smiled, surrendering to Zarya’s disciplined cooking.


	7. Unique.

_Unique - Zarya assures you you're her number one gal._

”There sure are a lot of pics of you and your fans.”  
Her fan page on facebook had a gallery a mile long, fans around your age all posing alongside your champion girlfriend after weightlifting matches. Her face ranged from a cool blue steel to an infectious beam, fans posed with stretched grins and peace signs. The photos were endless. Everyone wanted a piece of the unbeatable Zarya. The laptop on your lap lit up your face with a blue glow, highlighting the creeping worry on your face. You were getting interested in weightlifting, sure, but you didn’t get it half as much as some of these fans did, some of them were damn cute, too. It wasn’t jealousy, you thought, it was concern that you weren’t doing your best in supporting Zarya.  
“Mmmm. I only understand a bit, really. They want a moment. Usually when I am at my sweatiest.” She peered over your shoulder and slung her arms around your neck, “But you, I save my best sweating for you.”  
“Lucky me!” You laugh, as she planted a kiss on your temple.   
She nuzzled slightly into your head and sighed, “Coming home to my biggest fan, this is why competitions are worth it, to make you and family proud.”  
You turned your head and closed your eyes and shared a closeness, “I won’t let you down, I promise. I’m always proud of you.”  
She chuckled and nosed your cheek slightly, “I know. You always let me know.”


	8. Hard-to-find.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Listen. I play fast and loose with prompts - it doesn't really fit but like, tbh, as long as the drabble is all good, then I don't really care. It inspired me, that's all I needed.)

_Hard-to-find - You're sad and texting Zarya._

Zarya used emojis like punctuation on days like this.

Today 19:57  
 _Not feeling special. Staying home tonight. Miss you._

You sent the message curled up on the couch, she was away on competition far away. Maybe even thousands of miles. And you were stuck to this sofa, too exhausted to even switch the light on in the dimming room. For a few weeks you’d been feeling pretty low, on days off like this you kept to yourself. But you’d prefer to keep to yourself by her side.  
You phone buzzed in your cupped hands as you stared at the screen.

Today 20:01  
 _Zvezda moya--  
Keep trying hard for me! Go on a walk if you can - stretch out - do not waste autumn! Keep out of the trouble for me! Keep your head up high - I know you have the strength to do it! I Love you! XXXXXXXX_

Every sentence and break concluded with a tiny star, turning leaf or deep pink heart. She was pretty sure she used the exclamation marks to indicate a vigorous pep talk, but it often came across as over-excited puppy talk.   
Your phone vibrated again.

Today 20:06  
 _Today I am fighting for you - I know I can do it! I miss you. It is hard. I Love You darling! Go on without me! Record Game of Thrones I will watch it along with you! Soon! XXXXX_

A smile inched uncontrollably across your face, you relented and you got up, grabbed a coat and scarf. You needed a walk to recover. You took a walk under the lamp-posts in the park before coming home, feeling lighter across your shoulders. You replied with hugs and a thank you for her warm words. all night your phone buzzed with messages, bill be damned, apparently. The last thing you heard before nodding off was a buzz, and you squinted to see the words “Goodnight My Love” before drifting off.


	9. Wool.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (This was my fave to write.)

_Wool - It's damn cold and Zarya gives you her jacket._

 

Snow filtered down from the greyish sky, you looked up at the blanket of cloud cover and shivered. It looked like you could float away, up into the stratosphere and drift alone forever in endless fluffy clouds.  
You shook yourself, you needed to concentrate on getting home. You hadn’t predicted snow for today and your cardigan was not enough. You chided yourself, you were an exchange student at Volskaya university, you really ought to know better that there was no such thing as “light-jacket weather” in Russia. The street-lights made everything dewey and cosy, it painted the bars of snow lined next to the pavement with a fuzzy glow.  
You huffed a cold breath, only a few blocks now. Ahead of you, you spotted the girl you knew from class. I mean, you could hardly miss her with her bright pink hair and looming height, but it was also something in the way she walked; she marched but ever so slightly bobbed her shoulders as she listened to music through her headphones. Everything she did rippled with this particular feeling of power and pride; it wasn't scary exactly, and it wasn't stern, it was her own brand of confidence. You'd talked away at the back of the class together during a lecture you'd already covered back home, together you compared idioms, supermarkets and marriage customs from your home to Russia. Both giggling and conversing until the break, where you mutually decided to pull away to take proper notes. It happened almost every class you had with her.  
You caught up with her and gave her a little way, she stopped and lifted her arms for a hug in greeting. You hugged and felt your face flush as she pressed against you slightly.  
“It is good to see you, yeah!” She smiled, “But why are not in jacket, uh? Its 5.c, you know?”  
You shuffled in place, slightly embarrassed, “Got my estimation wrong, I guess. I just love this outfit a lot, it's really cute I couldn’t help---”  
“Here.” She cut you off and started to take off her jacket. It was a leather bomber jacket, with thick white fleece in the lining. You could hardly protest before she draped it over you. She took you by the shoulders and grinned, “Now, even cuter!”  
You froze in place. The weight of the hefty jacket pressed on you, it's lumpy, soft texture catching on your neck. You looked up at her and tried to quibble out an apology, but she squeezed your arm and broke away before you could get a word in.  
“Good. I see you in class, sorry, I need to get home for errands, you owe me favour later, right?” She smiled and waved as she began a slow jog away, “Stay cute!” You heard as she disappeared around the corner.  
You stood and drew the jacket about you, zipping it from the bottom to your collarbone. You never felt warmer.


	10. Applaud.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Thanks for reading.)

_Applaud - You're cheering on Zarya at a competition._

You stood and woo’ed as loudly as you could as she slammed the weights to the ground. She bent over and slapped her hands to her chiseled thighs, before rising back up with waves to the audience.  
Every round was the same, she’d haul up her part and wipe her competitors to the roar of the crowd. You almost felt bad for them.  
It was only a high school event, but you still felt that buzz. You admired her so much, you couldn’t get enough of her; the way she lazily pushed back in her seat in class or took up the desk when she leant forward, the way she ran her hands through her hair when she looked in the mirror and the way she painted her nails in pastels during break, the times she would curse under her breath when it got on her cuticle. And that accent, it took you places and made it hard to focus when she answered in class.  
You disguised your support by your position on the school paper, your friend, the photographer, could see through you. She nudged you forward as you approached her for an interview post-match.  
You stuttered out a few questions whilst your friend flitted around you, taking candid photos of Zarya’s glistening buff form.  
“Hey, uh, Zarya! It would make a great picture if you could lift our reporter in the air, don’t you think?!” You friend said, popping her head over your shoulder.  
“Eh, certainly!” Zarya said, turning to look at you.  
Your cheeks burnt and your eyes flashed with terror. You detected, maybe, the slightest of smirks as Zarya hoisted you onto to her bicep. You were up so high so quickly you barely had time to smile as you balanced precariously on her arm.  
As she let you down she beamed at you, and thanked for you the for the article you were working on. You nodded and babbled before being tugged away by your photographer, showing the stills of the moment. You’d blinked, but Zarya looked overjoyed.


End file.
